Page 142 of Fear the Flames
Fire itself can’t burn brighter than I am right now.
“May I present the first dragon-riding queen in history, Queen Elowen Atarah. Long may she reign!” the priestess shouts.
“Long may she reign!” echoes the crowd.
Slowly, Cayden takes several steps in front of the crowd, his eyes never leaving mine—not even when my dragons growl at him. He just continues his steady pace forward, stopping a few feet in front of me. I know everyone is watching him, waiting to see what he’s doing.
Cayden does something he has never done for anyone.
He unsheathes his sword from his side, and he kneels—sinking into the dirt while bowing his head and offering up his sword to me. It’s a sign of respect that soldiers give their commanders and that citizens give their monarchs. The rest of the crowd follows suit, and they sink to the ground like a rippling effect. Stretching from the steps of the castle, down into the town until my eyes can’t stretch farther.
“Bow before your queen or burn and bleed!” Cayden declares.
A united front.
I am burn, and he is bleed.
He is my king.
I am his queen.
Together we reign.
